


with great decisions comes

by the_indoor_kites



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkwardness, Breathplay, How Do I Tag, I Tried, M/M, Morning After, Non-Graphic Smut, One Night Stands, i mean a tiny bit, really great feats of communication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 22:58:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17455889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_indoor_kites/pseuds/the_indoor_kites
Summary: Suga wakes up in decidedly NOT his own bed. Is it bad form to stay too long? Where do other people keep their toothpaste?





	with great decisions comes

**Author's Note:**

> It could probably be better with more editing, but I'm the only one reading and editing, and my brain has apparently decided that this procrastination-tactic has run its course. On to the next hamster-wheel.
> 
> If you spot any errors, don't be blushy about letting me know.
> 
> Additionally, I wasn't sure how or how much to tag this. There are certain things mentioned, discussed or insinuated, but I don't know whether I should tag and warn for them. Please do tell me whether you think I should!

.

The sheets are clean, smooth and pleasingly cool. Pale arms reach out and his body proceeds to flex and stretch in different directions as he wakes, enjoying the feeling of the bed. He is teetering on the delicate balance where he can feel all the alcohol he put away last night, but not the consequences yet. The consequences are slowly trickling in though, and he can feel his stomach start to twist and turn. Slowly starts registering the pale daylight that isn’t viciously attacking his dry eyes yet. He can tell that he didn’t take out his contacts last night.

 

The bed is too big though. The windows with their increasingly assaulting daylight inching towards him placed all wrong.

 

Suga’s eyes flash open. And he re-remembers. Most things probably, the big lines, the end result. A broad back, black hair, clothes coming off, maybe a condom at some point and drunk too-close-to-the-truth’s tumbling out in the dark hours of late nights and questionable decision making.

 

_A hand at the front of his neck, the large palm placed right between his clavicles, fingers lightly encircling his neck. Eyes usually so sharp shining down at him with the sheen of drunk, reading his reactions. ‘You’re into this type of thing huh?’_

Fuck.

 

What did he do last night. Had that really. Had he really done that. How had he decided this was a good idea.

 

He lifts up the top of the cover, though he didn’t really need to confirm what the sheets brushing against him tells him. _Yep, very naked. Smelling a lot like sex._

 

He looks about for his possessions. He can spy his bag and clothes on the end of a couch on the opposite side of the room. Underwear on the floor at the foot of the bed. His phone is in a charger right next to the bed on the floor though, which seems like unbelievable forethought and could almost be the most remarkable thing he has discovered this morning. Except it isn’t at all. Memories flash… _hands on neck… you’re a biter too… don’t scratch too much._ This isn’t the time to panic, though. There’s nothing wrong. He hasn’t fucked up too bad. Probably. It’s just sex right. He probably didn’t.. it was probably fine. It’s all fine.

 

His phone still manages to find its way into his hands and the texts fly before he manages to rein it in

 

**To: Daichi**

**shit i’m in kuroo’s bed**

**To: Daichi**

**i just woke up**

**To: Daichi**

**did i really do this**

 

Daichi is usually a good friend who can be depended upon for good advice, and some solid shoves in the right direction when he sometimes veers off. But Suga might have laughed enough at him at this point in their friendship that he is in for a world of smug this time. He’d rather have that smug than.. oh god. The rest of the Volley Ball team. His Recently Joined Volley Ball Team. Daichi knowing is one thing, but everyone else. What if everyone else finds out. And Daichi had only recently convinced him to join, too. They had a match today with their ‘social’ university-team. That’s why Kuroo isn’t here. But it’s fine, he hasn’t flaked out on his team, it was already decided that he wouldn’t play today. Half because _Oikawa_ is on the team (no matter how much this isn’t the competitive team but just the one formed ‘for social purposes’), but also because the club had thrown a party last night, and he did have enough self-awareness before-hand to know that his academic stress levels as of late would lead him down quite the alcohol-steeped road. So he said he would not be able to play today. But Kuroo.

 

Okay, maybe less panicking and more decisive action. It’s not _that_ late in the day yet. His phone confirms it’s only almost mid day. Oh god if he feels like this now, how did Kuroo ever get up for the match at 8?

 

_Hands brushing up and down his body. Suga wakes to the pleasant warm feeling of closeness and someone touching him. The other body slides up closely to his back as strong hands pull him in closer. Hands wander from his chest and waist back to his ass, grabbing and massaging. A quiet gravelly voice in his ear ‘I gotta be at the match at 8’. What time is it, who knows, but Kuroo is sliding against him now, it’s so nice, do they have time for this? ‘Eight?’ he whispers back, but Kuroo just grunts in confirmation and starts thrusting between his upper thighs. There are fingers at his hole, and it feels good, but is not enough either.’ I’m still so drunk’ is mumbled against his neck and time blurs as they keep going until the alarm makes a noise again. ‘Fuck’. Kuroo keeps going more intensely. ‘Turn that things off’, Suga groans but the response is ‘ugh no’ and a firmer hold on his hips. But it’s annoying so Suga twists to reach the phone and pads blindly at the screen until it shuts up. Kuroo stops, groaning into his upper back. ‘Fuck I have to go’, and he hasn’t come yet, but with a squeeze he leaves Suga in the bed._

 

Match at 8 and how long would it take to beat whatever team they’re playing? Should Suga leave before then? No, right? It’s not like it’s an unspoken social rule that you have to clear out before your accidental teammate-turned-one-night stand (that you probably really shouldn’t have gone home with but is attractive and fun and oh god how could he do this on his _new team_ ) gets home, right? Suga has a vague memory of Kuroo telling him that he’d give him a ride home today. He is at least pretty sure Kuroo had promised him a ride home. Which would be nice considering he does not remember how they got to Kuroo’s apartment form the train station. And he does not have any more Internet on his monthly phone plan.

 

_Okay, do something. I can at least attempt a level of clean_.

 

Get clean and dressed and packed before Kuroo comes home. That’s a good plan. Or maybe he should say in bed, and sleep some more? Would it be nice to be woken up by Kuroo crawling back into bed? Maybe they could finally finish then? They had both, mostly Kuroo, been too drunk to come, from what he remembered of getting here in the middle of the ungodly hours of almost-morning-but-still-night. Maybe post-match sex was a good idea, or just a warm wake-up kiss. But either way, morning-breath was never fun for anyone.

 

Suga is standing in the bathroom, trying to figure out where Kuroo keeps his toothpaste, because that seems a reasonable thing to do, right? Brush your teeth? ( _why are you suddenly questioning yourself so much?_ ) When he hears the noise of keys jangling.

 

Well luckily he remembered to put on a t-shirt before he stranded himself in the bathroom on toothpaste-search. The bathroom that there is a close-up view to from the front door if one bothers turning their head to the right when entering. Though, as he looks down, he realizes that the shirt isn’t his own. Maybe he should have guessed or noticed based on the size.

 

The front door opens, and the tired figure of Kuroo steps in with a sports bag over his shoulder.

 

Suga must have made a noise because the other looks up and directly at him.

 

”Oh god, you’re still here”

 

Well if that isn’t flattering.

 

”Just looking for your toothpaste” he smiles, holding up the toothbrush he had been kindly lend not even 8 hours ago by a then more inviting man.

 

Kuroo is shucking off his shoes, ”it’s up in the cabinet” is thrown over a shoulder as he continues into the apartment, liberating himself of bag and coat along the way.

 

”Thanks.” Suga’s voice echoes a bit in the bathroom.

 

_Well, what now_ , he ponders as he brushes his teeth. He wanders out of the bathroom while brushing and spots the other collapsed on his couch. There’s an arm thrown over Kuroo’s face and a phone in the other. He can’t help but study the form of the man, his long legs, lanky body that have a set of surprisingly broad shoulders and crazy hair at the top. The musculature of the arm thrown over Kuroo’s face, his tendons and muscles moving a bit as he slightly clenches and releases his hand.

 

A flash of memory, talks with Kuroo and Oikawa, Kenma being somewhere in the vague vicinity of the memory. _Oh yeah he’s the type to show texts from conversations to other people_.

 

He remembers some bitching about other people from their official competition team, which mostly seemed good-natured, and whenever Kuroo and Oikawa got drunk near each other there was a certain inevitable quality to it. The topic had fallen on Ushijima, one of the only members of the official team to not join the ‘social team’. Kuroo had started showing texts between him and Ushijima on his phone, commenting on how awkward his texts were, like an old man who had never figured out how texting works, ( _who starts and ends every text with a ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ aside from grandmothers and other technologically challenged people?_ ) and then Oikawa got going about _Ushiwaka-chan_. The stories unfolded and rants embarked upon had been longer than Suga figured they usually were. This was mostly due to Iwaizumi not being there to manage Oikawa because he was too busy playing beer-pong with Matsukawa and Hanamaki as questionably motivated teammates. Suga thinks they might mostly have joined the game to trip up Iwaizumi and make him drink all the penalties. They had been up against a determined Daichi and a Bokuto who did most of the yelling and drinking for that team, while amazingly enough also getting a few balls in cups. Though most when he threw with his eyes closed. And then yelled _BRO!_ in Kuroo’s direction every time afterwards (including when he didn't make it in), making Kuroo respond _BRO_ , laugh and then return to their rant-filled conversation.

 

It had been fun at turns. But it leaves him wondering.

 

_Am I the topic of bitching now? **‘i got home and suga’s not gone yet‘** _and the answering _‘ **bro, what’**_

 

Kuroo and Bokuto always had called each other bro to a disturbing extend.

 

Maybe he is overthinking this. _Oh no, you’d never_ , a sarcastic voice pipes up.

 

Suga turns on his heel and goes to spit in the sink. Well. There’s only one way out, and that’s through.

 

He returns to the room and calmly collects his clothes from the couch end where Kuroo’s legs are dangling over the arm.

 

“How did it go?” Suga ventures, sitting himself on the edge of the bed.

 

“I was still drunk when I got there.. fuck I got so drunk last night..” comes an answer through an arm.

 

“Oh?”

 

“And I drove there…” Kuroo pauses, “I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

 

Suga pulls the shirt off over his head, looking at the lanky figure on the couch when his head pops out of the opening.

 

“Yeah that might not have been the best idea,” he says half-teasing and half-cautious. He doesn’t really know what this twilight zone is that they are in. Kuroo had left just as they had been having morning sex, and now the sight of Suga results in _oh god you’re still here_?

 

“I was drunk for most of the game. Then I started sobering up and getting a hangover halfway through,” Kuroo says.

 

“Ah-” Suga doesn’t get any further.

 

“Still won though. And they even fucked up their rotation. Should’ve lost the third set and the entire game purely on that, “ Kuroo continues, sounding like an attempt at half proud, half-nonchalant.

 

It sounds a bit like bragging, which sits weirdly in Suga’s ears as he pulls his own shirt on. They’re both players, does Kuroo really feel a need to brag about being drunk and hungover but still beating a different team?

 

“Sounds like a tough morning,” he smiles, attempting light humor “did you make it in time for 8?”

 

“Yeah yeah” Kuroo is now flicking through his phone. ”I’ve played drunk before but... the guys commented a bit, I probably shouldn’t do it so much anymore.”

 

Though Kuroo is talking about Suga’s teammates as well, it seems distancing almost. Like these aren’t his teammates. He is new, but not _that_ new. And he had always felt welcome. But now…

 

“Oh?”

 

“They asked a lot too” Kuroo looks over with an approximation of his usual shrewd glance at Suga who has gotten to his socks at this point, “like ‘did you take Suga home last night? Is that why you’re late?’”

 

Suga freezes for a second but covers it quickly. “What did you say?”

 

“You’re new in the club, and I’m vice-captain. I really shouldn’t have done this,” Kuroo bypasses his question and groans a bit, massaging his temples. “You’re Daichi’s friend.”

 

_I’m Daichi’s friend? Really?_

 

“Well, what did you say?” he repeats his question maintaining a casual air.

 

“I didn’t think there was much to hide. Bokuto had already clocked me before we left last night,” Kuroo says, the broad shoulders shrug as he returns to his phone.

 

A beat of silence. “Though I probably reeally shouldn’t have done this.”

 

_Oh come on. I bet this is hardly the first time in history this has happened, relax._

 

“The most important thing is how we agree to handle it,” Suga says. He can feel sour fragile bubbles in his chest at the apparent regret he senses coming off Kuroo. But they’re adults, they can handle this. “As long as we agree on what we tell people, it’ll be fine.” He finishes pulling on his pants, buttoning them and turns to sit with crossed legs on the bed looking at Kuroo. He leans a casual elbow on the knee, lightly putting his chin on his hand. “So, what do you want to tell them?”

 

“I didn’t figure there was much to tell.” Dismissive and evasive.

 

“If you got questions today, I figure I’ll be grilled by the team at next practice. I just need to know what to tell them,” Suga injects a small laugh, attempting to lighten up and sneak through the dismissive defences.

 

“Well, the truth I guess. But.. you know.”

 

No, he actually does not know. What.

 

Before he can say anything, Kuroo groans again. “God I was so drunk yesterday, I can barely remember a thing.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Yeah. Like _wasted_ , I haven’t been this drunk in ages. I think I emptied half a bottle of tequila before we even started doing shots with Bokuto..” Kruoo stares a bit at his phone. “I don’t really remember anything after the beer pong game.”

 

Suga has a moment of _we played beer pong?_ Until he remembers they that had indeed taken over the table after Iwaizumi had lost to Daichi and a jubilant Bokuto.

 

“Oh right,” he says, following along.

 

“You don’t seem that hung-over,” Kuroo says suddenly, looking at him for a long beat before looking back at his phone.

 

Suga touches his hair a bit self-consciously. He knows that it luckily looks relatively normal, the only pieces sticking up are the hairs that Will Never Be Tamed anyway, and his hangover is a bit slow about catching up to him, so he does actually still feel relatively human.

 

“I guess it’s not too bad right now, I think it’s going to hit me later though,” he says, his eyes stinging and scratching a bit at the dried out contacts. He opens his mouth to continue when-

 

“Fuck, why did I get so drunk,” Kuroo whines a bit. “It’s just that damn beer-pong and then... And then after that it’s just black. Jesus fuck…” Kuroo groans a bit more into his hands.

 

“Completely dark?”

 

“I just don’t remember anything.”

 

Suga sits in silence a bit as he contemplates the groaning man in front of him, moaning about blackouts and too much tequila. This could go in many directions or signal many a hidden agenda, message or attempt to feel out the situation. Defensive about drunk-sex? Performance, because he didn't come? Maybe he doesn’t want to say anything without first getting a feel for where Suga is at. Or maybe. Maybe.

 

“Listen -” he starts, falters, and tries again, the issue of Kuroo’s over-intoxication suddenly sitting heavily in his stomach, “hey, Kuroo – should I be feeling bad over here? Are you regretting what we did?” _did I take advantage?_ It seems such an incongruous thing to match _taking advantage_ to this sly, sexually confident cat-eyed man, but personality doesn’t have any bearing on that, he reminds himself.

 

“I don’t even remember what we did,” Kuroo turns his head to waggle his eyebrows at him but Suga isn’t really buying it. “Sexy cliff-notes version at the most”

 

Suga had been woken up by searching hands past 6 in the morning. Had Kuroo still been that drunk at that point? Is he just covering his bases at this point? Is this the polite ‘I’m not interesting in anything more, so this is an out for both of us’ wrapped up in alcohol and eyebrow-waggling as frills and indirect neon-signage?

 

“I see…” he trails off.

 

“I should drive you home, right. I think I remember where you and Daichi live,” Kuroo says, changing the topic completely.

 

Kuroo pops up from the couch with a surprising amount of energy for someone who also does look a bit like they did a few hours intense workout running on half a bottle of tequila. It doesn’t match his usual slow, catlike movements and Suga observes him as Kuroo slowly adjusts himself as he moves around the flat.

 

“That’d be nice, I don’t even remember where the station is.” Suga goes for a half-joke again, deciding that if Kuroo is giving both of them an ‘out’ by pulling the ‘I don’t remember’-card, then he’s going to take it.

 

He packs up his bag, throws on his many layers, given the winter-cold outside, and stands sweeping the apartment with a look quickly for straggling possessions.

 

“Ready” he smiles mildly at Kuroo, watching the man down some water before heading for his jacket.

 

“Let’s go then,” Kuroo adds a bit of waggles again, and Suga twitches a smile mostly for the other’s benefit.

 

It’s gonna be a long drive.

 

…

 

And Daichi hasn’t answered his texts yet.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> Please do leave comments with your opinions and thoughts, I am curious if this way of writing works for anyone not me. Or if there should be more meat and description or if my style of sparseness works in a way?
> 
> I might write more for this, depending on the response.
> 
> footnote to self tho: why is everything I write sad, dysfunctional or people seemingly moving away from each other instead of towards each other. Maybe I should force myself to write some fluff. Should I?
> 
> also, aren't they just great communicators. so great. nothing lost here.


End file.
